IF WISHES WERE HORSES
by Kay-nu
Summary: In this AU Jim has been convicted of killing his mother and lives in a mental hospital. Murdoc of the A-Team befriends him. Blair has destroyed his career with his interest in junk science, the study of Sentinels
1. Chapter 1

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

(This story is rated K. It is an alternate universe where Jim Ellison has been convicted of killing his mother and lives in a mental institute. Blair's reputation as being involved in junk science, study of sentinels, has cost him his academic career. This story is crossed over with The A-Team. Yes it is a rewrite of an older story and goes in a new direction.)

_If wishes were horses_

_Beggars would ride. _

Chapter One

Kneeling in the mud the boy rested his chin against his chest. Rain ran through his crew cut hair down into his face. His broad shoulders shook. Maybe he shivered from the cold or maybe he was crying. Detective Shore wasn't certain.

The boy's water sodden tee shirt stuck to his athletic frame. Rain washed away the blood from his jeans. A grim faced officer stood over the boy reading him his rights.

Detective Shore's attention went to the other boy. Cherubim faced and younger his blond hair plastered to his head the boy clung to an aristocratic looking grieving man.

"Please," the voice spoke in the manner of one of good breeding and wealth. Ignoring the fact that his expensive custom made suit had been ruined in the rain the man turned pleading light blue eyes towards Detective Shore. "Please, my wife," his voice broke. "You're not going to leave her out here. Grace shouldn't be lying in the mud. She just had her hair done."

Bowing his head the man sobbed. Sobbing the young boy buried his face against his father. The devastated husband and father, William Ellison, gently patted his youngest son.

Mentally Detective Shore cursed. This was going to be one of those nights when he'd have to stop at a bar to clear his head. As gently as he could he herded the shattered family away from the plastic tarp covered body on the muddy ground. "Let's go inside," he said kindly. "You don't want your son to catch pneumonia."

Behind them a uniformed officer pulled Grace Ellison's killer to his feet. Her eldest son was placed into the back of a squad car. They had already bagged the murder weapon. James Joseph Ellison's baseball bat still bloody with pieces of scalp and blond hair had been found where he'd thrown it through the open door of the garden shed.

James, Jim to his friends at school, sat with his head down. Water dripped down the end of his nose. Tears ran down his cheeks to his quivering mouth. In his mind he could still hear his mother screaming.

'_JIM! NO! JIM!'_

Did I kill her? Did I kill my mother?

His body shivered from the icy rain that had soaked through his clothing. The door of the police car opened. A burly uniformed black police officer tucked a blanket around his shoulders. "Why don't I dry off your hair and face?" He spoke in a soft baritone voice.

Jim shook his head. He kept his eyes on the blanket that now covered his shivering body. Mucus dripped down from his nose to his upper lip. "Did I kill my mother?" His whisper escaped hoarse from his raw throat. "I was looking up at the bird's nest. I lost myself." His body shuddered as a sob tore through him.

"I heard her screaming for me to stop. Please tell me I didn't kill my mother. I didn't take my mediation. I didn't like the taste. I'm sorry." Sobs racked his body. "I'm sorry mother—I want my mother."

Young Officer Joel Taggart's mouth went dry. His dark eyes looked back at his partner. "Lord in heaven," he whispered. He stood up gently closing the patrol car door. "Kid just confessed to killing his mother."

Rain drummed on Officer Malcolm Everett's plastic covered uniformed hat. He shook his head. "Rich kid had everything and he kills his mother. With the evidence and his confession if he's tried as an adult he'll be given the death sentence."

Joel looked back at the small figure huddled in the back of their squad car. "Jim talked about not taking his medication and blacking out."

Everett's eyes rolled. "Well, if he's a head case and IF the old man decides to help him, rich kid Jim Ellison will spend the rest of his life in a mental hospital."

Through the closed squad car door and the heavy rain drumming on the metal roof of the police car, Jim had heard everything. He lay down on the backseat. Drawing up his legs on the seat Jim began to rock. Guilt darkened his soul. A single thought ran through his troubled mind. I KILLED MY MOTHER.

##

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

IF WISHES

Jim and Blair each start far different paths in life in this alternate universe. (If you read the original this is a whole total rewrite. It goes in a completely different direction.)

###

Chapter Two

JIM'S FAMILY

"I put Stephen to bed," the young Asian woman spoke softly. A careful expression hid her horror of what had happen. Only the sadness in her dark eyes gave hint to the depth of her feelings. Like the other household servants she wore a simple blue uniform with a white apron. She'd put on her black sweater as she readied to leave the Ellison mansion. An umbrella waited for her by the door. It had been raining all the very sad day.

William Ellison nodded. "Thank you, Sally." He handed her an envelope containing a week's salary. "If you reconsider my offer please let me know." His red rimmed eyes lingered on her face. Of all the household servants who had come and gone over the years Sally was the one he'd most like to see stay. "There is a little extra for a wedding present in the envelope."

"Thank you, Mr. Ellison." Sally pocketed the envelope in her apron pocket. "Good night, Mr. William. Good night, Mr. Douglas. She quietly left the study. She hated to leave Stephen alone after such a horrible tragedy but she'd promised Roger that she'd quit so that they could be married tomorrow.

Douglas Ellison nodded a goodbye. He poured brandy from a crystal decanter into a brandy glass. "Good night, Sally." At sixty his dark brown hair had just started turning grey around his temples giving him a distinguished look. "Son, would you like brandy or whiskey?"

William paused. The question though a simple one seemed difficult to answer. His emotions were still all over the place. Finally he said, "Brandy, Father."

"Sally seems to be an excellent nanny. Stephen calmed down quickly under her care." Douglas poured another brandy for his eldest son. He handed the brandy glass to William. "She runs the household well. Why isn't she staying on?"

A soft sigh escaped William. His eyes seemed locked on to the dark reddish liquid in the brandy sniffer. "Grace hired Sally from a temporary agency." He took a swallow of the brandy. Warmth spread down his throat. "Every time that Jimmy had to adjust to a different level of his medication," William's eyes filled with tears. A weary look settled over his aristocratic face. He let out a long breath. "She-we felt it better if help for the boys stayed only temporary."

Douglas frowned at his son. "Miss Sally should be jumping at an opportunity for a full time permanent position. Jobs right now seem scare around Cascade."

"It's her young man," William said wiping his eyes. "Sally has found a young man she is marrying." He recalled something that Grace had said. "Robert had to take a night watchman job in Portland. He's saving for college."

Patting his son's shoulder Douglas nodded. He'd take care of that little problem. "Elizabeth will be here tomorrow." He could see that William relaxed a bit at the mention of his mother. "You'll need to hire a lawyer for your son."

"Stephen," William looked up confused. "Why does Stephen need a lawyer?"

"James," Douglas said firmly. "No Ellison family is ever represented by a public defender."

"He killed Grace," William's light eyes hardened. Grace had died horribly. He hated Jimmy.

"An Ellison on death row or in prison is not something I'm going to see in my lifetime," Douglas snapped. "You have often said that James was born with an affliction that appeared in Mary Margaret's family."

William's eyes widened at the mention of his first wife. He'd defied his father to marry her when he'd met Mary Margaret in college. She'd been waitressing at the college café. She'd been pretty and funny. William sighed. He hadn't known about her strange affliction until after they'd married. By then she'd been pregnant with Jimmy.

"The right lawyer and a contribution to the right judge," Douglas waved his brandy glass for emphasize. "Jimmy will be remanded to the right facility."

Slowly William nodded. Like his mother Jimmy would be tucked away in some mental institution. Like her he too would end up in a vegetative state until the day he followed her in death. William sighed, "Yes, Father." His shoulders slumped.

###

NAOMI AND BLAIR

Blair stuffed his teddy bear into the raggedy looking hand quilted backpack. He handed the backpack out the bedroom window to Naomi. Behind him a chair under the door knob assured them that should Pete come back too soon they could still escape.

"Come on, baby," Naomi waited anxiously as eight year old Blair climbed out the window. She held out her arms for him. Blair thankfully was small for his age. She put her arms around his slender frame. Gritting her teeth she helped him to the ground. Her ribs ached from the beating she'd taken. A dark bruise covered the left side of her face.

Music pulsated loudly from the Wet Pony a half a block away from the trailer park. Pete liked to spend his evenings drinking with buddies after work. On Fridays he liked to spend most of his paycheck drinking and playing pool.

Blair put on his backpack. His left eye had been blackened. Having his eye swollen shut made it difficult to see in the dimming evening light. He took Naomi's hand. "Are we going to the bus station, Naomi?"

"No, honey," Naomi led him firmly away from the trailer. "The bus won't come for another hour. Pete will be able to find us." Of all the men she'd been with Pete ranked high up as a big mistake. "I overheard Missy tell Carla that Jennie escaped by walking to the Indian town across the desert."

Blair let out a world weary sigh. He knew that most likely they'd spend most of the night walking. "I filled my thermos with water. I hid it inside Mosley." Luke had given him Mosley. He sighed again. He missed the big Southern football player.

"I have food and water in my backpack too, Blair." Naomi held his hand firmly as they walked. They followed the old sidewalk until they were well passed all the trailers. Naomi kept to a well trodden path until they were no longer visible to anyone back at the trailer park. She pulled out a flashlight. "I promise no more men who hurt us."

Blair grimly held onto Naomi's hand. His mother didn't seem to be able to help herself where men were concerned. He'd have to be the one to protect them.

They walked for almost two hours before Naomi decided it would be safe for them to stop by an outcrop of rocks. Blair had noticed with his right eye little dots of red in the scrub brush that they'd passed. "Are there rabbits out here, Naomi?" He clutched her hand a little tighter.

"Lots of bunny rabbits," Naomi yawned. Exhausted and hungry all she wanted was to fall into bed and sleep. She shivered. "Look at all the stars, Blair." They both looked up into the dark night.

"Wow," Blair smiled. He could dimly see the sparkle of stars scattered through the dark night canopy above them. He shivered. Night on the open desert was a lot cooler than the trailer but not by much. "Naomi, we should put on our jackets now."

###

Fifty miles away the elderly shaman woke his grandson. "You need to rescue a small one and his mother."

Gabriel Walker groaned. He pushed back his woven blanket. "Grandfather, why am I always rescuing people at night?" He stumbled out of bed reaching for his jeans and boots.

It wasn't true. Grandfather Isaac Dream Walker had sent him out several times to rescue people whose cars had broken down in the day light hours. He'd been sent out when Lily Snow Bird had to fight off a pack of coyotes to protect her sheep.

"White people like to travel at night," Grandfather Isaac Dream Walker went to the kitchen of the small house. The foolish woman and her special young son would be hungry. He set about making a mutton stew. By the time that his grandson returned it would be simmering nicely.

Yawning Gabriel came out of the bedroom. He thought of the young pregnant Jeannie. She'd been badly dehydrated and sunburned when he'd found her. After a week of his father's care at the medical clinic she and her baby were going to make it.

"What should I take besides my medical kit, Grandfather?" Straddling both the medical field and the world of a shaman had its moments. Still, Gabriel didn't want to disappoint either his father or his grandfather.

Taking finely ground corn meal out of a plastic container Isaac Dream Walker paused thoughtfully. "It is cold tonight. They aren't dressed for it. Stop at Kathy's diner. Have her fill a thermos of coffee and one of hot chocolate." He brought out a pan to make cornbread. "You might want to tell the white state policeman at the diner that an investigation should be made at the small trailer park."

Gabriel nodded. One woman running from an abusive husband was one thing but a second woman running away spelled trouble.

"The young Shaman will need to see Dr. Sam Hernandez."

Gabriel froze. A white shaman. On a Vision quest She Who Walks with Wolves had shown him a small white and tan wolf cub that had morphed into a small white boy. "Start him on his quest," she had told him.

"Go, Gabriel," Isaac Dream Walker said.

###

Jim huddled in a corner of the padded cell. Two burly orderlies had forced him to take his latest medicine. He wasn't able to fall into one of his dark spells. Sniffling Jim slowly rocked himself. The medication would wear off soon anywhere. The trick was not to let the adults know when it wore off. Then he could escape into the darkness.

His head hurt. He'd cried himself out hours ago. Now he ached. "I didn't mean to kill my mother," he chanted over and over again.

The psychiatric ward of Cascade General Hospital had been busy. Beside Jim several other patients had been brought in. Jim heard their screams and moans. He shivered pulling his arms tighter around his youthful body.

Joel Taggart had filled out the paperwork. His shift had been over hours ago. Yes he'd gone home to his apartment but restless he found his way back to the hospital.

He recognized the two uniformed officers that accompanied a blood splattered young teenager on a gurney. The boy kept chanting, "I'm not done."

He waited until they'd talked to the nurse before getting Davis' attention.

The young black officer greeted him with a weary look, "Must be a full moon out tonight." Rain dripped off of his muddy looking raincoat. "I heard you caught the Ellison murder."

"News travels fast," Joel leaned against the nurse's counter.

"When something happens to the wealthy its news," Davis ran a large hand over his tired wet face. "No one is going to hear tomorrow about the kid we brought in."

Orderlies Joel recognized from the psych ward appeared. They were taking the struggling teenager away. His strange cries were cut off as they disappeared behind the doors that led to the locked psychiatric ward.

"Did he kill someone?" Concern flashed in Joel's dark eyes.

"An elderly poodle," Davis snorted. "Mrs. Diana Heydash heard the neighbor's dog yelp and looked out her window. She saw a dark figure beating the poor dog to death. She called us. Thankfully her husband Coach Bud Heydash was home. He wrestled the boy to the ground. He probably kept Mrs. Kelly from ending up like her dog."

"Crazy night," Joel agreed.

####

BLAIR

His new glasses worked so much better than the old ones. "Thank you for the glasses," he said respectfully. His eye had healed well enough that he could now see out of it.

Gabriel smiled. He found himself liking the quiet curly haired young boy. "You are very welcome." He held out his hand to Blair. "Let's go see what Manuel is doing today."

Blair smiled shyly. Gabriel wasn't a boyfriend to his mother. Still, he was a good guy. Gabriel had said it was a Navaho thing to pay for the glasses. Blair's smile dimmed a bit. He would have liked to stay awhile. Gabriel and his family were cool.

Gabriel's mother Sara Little Turtle had fixed his backpack. She'd found clothes for him to wear that didn't look like they came from a thrift store. A nurse at her husband's clinic she'd helped him assemble a first aid kit that had been safely tucked inside Mosley. His teddy bear's secret compartment also held their phone numbers just in case he might need them.

Even Gabriel's father Dr. Titus Dark Horse was cool. He carried Blair on his shoulders to see the sheep and told him funny stories about growing upon the small reservation. He'd fixed up Naomi's ribs.

Grandfather Isaac Dream Walker was the coolest of them all. The old man told him stories about spirit walks. He even let Blair help him mix up herbal remedies.

A sigh escaped Blair.

"Your mother Naomi is going to leave with her new friends." Gabriel kept his tone light.

"Uh huh," Blair kicked at the dirt. He sighed again. "We're going to San Francisco. Your mom helped me catch up with my school work. Naomi says I can go to school again while she and Tina meet with Timothy Leary."

Fully aware of the drug culture that Naomi was headed into a frustrated Gabriel could only nod. He kept a pleasant look on his round face. "Here we are," they'd stopped in front of Manuel Rodriquez's leather shop.

"Are you getting a saddle for one of your horses?" Blair happily followed Gabriel inside. The bell on the door jingled as they stepped inside. The smell of leather filled the small shop. Saddles hung from the ceiling. "This is so cool," Blair released Gabriel's hand.

"I see my favorite young man," Manuel looked up from where he'd been stamping a design on to a black leather backpack. Dark eyes peered from behind thick glasses. His thick curly black hair had decades ago gone white.

"Hi, Manuel," Blair grinned happily. He wandered over to see what the elderly man was working on.

Gabriel saw an elderly Hopi medicine woman. The short plump woman seemed interested in some of the new leather purses Manuel had on display. He respectfully removed his black cowboy hat as he approached her. His grandfather might be miffed but Gabriel knew that Blair needed all the help he could get. They talked quietly as Blair watched Manuel stamp little wolves on the black leather backpack.

"Well what do you think, Blair?" Manuel held up the backpack.

"It's so cool." Blair lovingly ran his hands over the butter soft leather. It amazed him that someone with such gnarled hands could do such incredible things with leather. "Mosley could hide inside of this. You do good work, Manuel."

"Try it on, Blair. I need to know if it is right for my special customer." Manuel flashed a smile. His young apprentices were busy working on smaller projects in the back of the shop.

"Okay," Blair carefully pulled the leather straps over his bony shoulders. It felt like a good fit. His only regret was that it was for a 'special customer' and not for him.

"Perfect," Manuel said. "You will enjoy it as you travel, young Blair."

"Mine," Blair squeaked happily. "Wow, thank you." He paused suddenly looking troubled. "But I don't have anything to give you."

"Young Blair," Manuel said gently. "You have brightened my days these past three weeks. By brightening my days my hands hurt less. I was able to do more work and made more money." He smiled. "I was able to hire two new apprentices. You see you have given me much."

Blair blushed. Impulsively he hugged the elderly man. "I'm going to miss you, Manuel."

"I know," Manuel said. He gently patted Blair. "We always carry our friends with us."

"Time to go," Gabriel said. "I saw a brightly colored van headed for Grandfather's place."

"I'll have to pack my new backpack." Blair gave Manuel another quick hug. "Bye," he said.

"We'll take the short cut," Gabriel said.

"There's a short cut?" Blair allowed Gabriel to lift him up into the pickup.

"The van can't go where my pickup can." Gabriel smiled. "We'll cut over to the old dirt road that goes through the Hopi reservation."

"Didn't Grandfather Isaac Dream Walker say not to go near those short round people?" Blair inquired.

Laughing softly Gabriel smiled. "Grandfather is Navaho. He is also still hurt all these years by Linda Dove's reject of him. She told him that he was too tall and skinny for her."

"Oh," they bumped over several pot holes in the dirt road. "Why don't Navaho and Hopi like each other?"

"We're different tribes," Gabriel said. "When you study people you need to remember that different groups of people see others that aren't like them as being something to be perhaps afraid of."

Blair filed the comments away for future thought.

###

JIM

Several of the spectators coughed. Some moved restlessly in their seats. Most had come every day to the murder trial of James Ellison. The Cascade Journal covered the case.

Wealthy socialite, Grace Ellison had been brutally murdered by her stepson. It had been revealed in court that Jim's biological mother had been sent to an insane asylum when he'd been barely six months old. Grace Ellison had helped raise Jim from an infant.

Much had been made of the fact that the murder weapon had been his birthday present from Grace.

Taylor Madison laid a hand on his young client's shoulder as they faced the judge. Dressed in jail orange Jim stood with downcast eyes. Jim had blacked out twice during the trial giving hope to his young lawyer that Jim would be acquitted by reason of insanity.

Nurses from the hospital had been called into testify that the medication didn't last long to keep the strange spells away.

It greatly disappointed Madison that the jury had returned only after three hours of deliberation with a verdict of 'Guilty'.

"Son," Judge Travis Watson looked down from behind the judge's bench. "Look up at me. I want to be certain that you understand."

Haunted light blue eyes came up resting on the middle aged balding judge. "Yes, Sir," a whispered response came from Jim.

"A jury of your peers has found you guilty." Judge Watson's voice was grave. "Under the law a person with a mental defect is sent to a hospital for the insane. You, James Joseph Ellison are remanded to the Mental Hospital for the Criminally Insane at Crystal Falls until such a time as you are either mentally sane or you die." Judge Watson banged his gavel.

A single tear coursed down Jim's youthful face. There was a flash of light as a photographer captured the moment. In the back of the courtroom Officer Joel Taggart softly sighed.

William Ellison sat silent and stony faced behind the prosecutor. His light blue eyes held no emotion as he watched his eldest son being led form the courtroom. Just as they reached the door Jim looked back at him.

There was a plea for forgiveness in his haunted eyes. His father's eyes became glaciers. There was no forgiveness on his stern aristocratic face.

Jim dropped his eyes to the floor letting the bailiffs take him out of the courtroom.

##

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

Chapter Three

(Fathers, mothers, Joel and Simon)

Blair sat cross legged in the garden. He waved his hands around animatedly while he explained something of great importance to him to his 'friends'. His giggles brought a smile to the middle-aged man watching from the open patio doorway.

The boy was a pure treasure. He was a delight to Timothy's soul. He'd counted the happy days since Naomi and her son had showed up in his life. He sighed. Only drugs gave him the kind of happiness that shone through Blair. Unlike the joy that filled Blair the drug induced joy seemed to be receding more and more from his eager grasp.

Unaware that he had eyes on him Blair busily described his latest venture to Chinatown. "There are real paper lanterns." He gestured with his hands how big the paper lanterns were. "Red ones and yellow ones," he said breathlessly.

The big silver and black mother wolf tilted her head as if trying to understand why humans would want to use paper lanterns. The little fat wolf cub at her side rolled over on his back waving all four of his legs at the sky.

Blair giggled. "You're so funny."

Timothy's eyes grew thoughtful as he watched Blair playing with his imaginary friends. What if he gave Blair a hit of LSD? Would he be able to see the workings of the boy's brilliant happy mind? Would he be able to get it for himself?

###

Miles and miles away Tina Crow Girl looked up from pouring a cup of hot tea. A big crow had landed in her window. "The boy is in very serious trouble again." She sighed and nodded. Shuffling the bend old woman made her way to her kitchen table. At least eighty she knew that she wouldn't be able to protect the boy much longer.

"Send one of your friends to Jeannie Watches Clouds. She has the power. Bring her here."

The crow opened its beak letting out a few sharp sounds.

"Yes, yes," she waved a gnarled hand. "Tell that skinny old man on that other reservation too."

###

A giggling blond wrapped her arms around Timothy. "Why are you so lost in thought?" An expensive pair of designer jeans hugged her slender hips. Somewhere in the sprawling house she'd lost her pricey blouse. Her lacy bra's strap slipped down one shapely shoulder.

Her enlarged pupils barely focused on the man she held. "We should seek happiness," Linda Caldwell whispered. She stood on tiptoes to offer the older man access to her lips.

Momentarily distracted by the young warm body Timothy smiled into her drug hazed eyes. "I'm going to get something better than acid." He whispered. His mouth eagerly sought her warm willing inviting mouth.

Outside the mother wolf gently nudged Blair. She shot a worried look where the man who'd been watching Blair stood.

"Is Naomi home," Blair quickly got to his feet. The puppy bounded happily at Blair's side as they headed back to where Blair shared a room with his young mother. He missed Naomi when she wasn't around. The wolves had been keeping him company for weeks now.

"You should let people see you," Blair ran his fingers though the she wolf's soft thick fur. She growled. "Okay, I'll keep you a secret."

A few streets away Naomi stopped in a small grocery store to get some milk.

"Are you bringing back milk to share," Doug asked. His copper colored hair hung down to his shoulders freckles decorated his pasty white face. Serious green eyes rested on the petite redhead at his side. Naomi was funny and warm. If Timothy hadn't staked her out Doug would have asked her and Blair to share his room.

She shook her head. "No, this is for Blair. He's not getting enough milk." She looked over the food inside the grocery store. "Some of the others," she hesitated. She didn't want to speak ill of anyone at the house.

"They don't share well with the children." Doug finished for her. He smiled at her. It didn't matter to him that Naomi was an older woman of twenty-five. She was still the most beautiful woman among those who hung around Timothy.

Naomi nodded. She picked up an apple and selected a small block of cheese. "I know I'm supposed to detach with love but Blair is my son." Fierce pride ran though the slender young woman. Blair was a shining treasure that she'd been blessed by the universe to allow into the world.

"Blair would be treated better at the commune I came from." He picked up a jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers.

Chewing her lower lip Naomi counted the money she had in her hand sewn purse. She was down to only a few coins. She'd have to make more macramé plant hangers to sell.

"I got some money for helping Chris move his stuff back home." He added a couple of dollars to Naomi's meager coins.

Looking up Naomi smiled. Doug was cute and nice. He was closer in age to her than Timothy. Well okay Doug was twenty-two but he was a mature twenty-two. A lot more mature than Timothy she realized. She'd found the famous man strangely boring. "Where is the commune?" She asked brightly. It sounded like a fun idea.

"Oregon," Doug said smiling. "The children get schooled on the commune. No one hassles us because they test so high on the standard school tests. We grow our own food. Some of the women have a business tie dying clothes and making baskets. We have music at night. Everyone dances and sings. There's a Buddhist school nearby. One of the monks has been teaching us to meditate."

"Oh, that is so cool." Naomi brightened. Now that was the kind of life she'd been looking for. She let Doug carry the grocery bag as they left the store. She almost stumbled when she felt a sensation like a wet nose in the middle of her back. She swore that she almost heard one of Blair's imaginary wolves growl a warning. Sucking in a breath she started walking faster. Blair needed her.

A big crow sat on a streetlight watching the two of them head towards the big house where Timothy and his followers lived. Unseen a big silver wolf growled. The crow made a sharp sound.

The big male wolf snorted. His tail wagged as he spotted another spirit companion. Time to call for assistance for the boy he helped protect.

JIM

Joel Taggart patiently waited at the front desk. Crystal Falls Mental Institute for the Criminally Insane didn't rank up there with the most desirable places to spend one's day off. He wrinkled his nose wondering why he was bothering to visit an obviously mentally ill boy-a white boy at that.

Built in the eighteen hundreds the mental hospital had a moldy dusty stench to it. Water marks on the ceiling attested to leaks in the aging roof. A thin mud colored rug had worn places. Obviously the state didn't spend much to update the hospital.

"Officer Taggart," Dr. Jon Wright had the haggard appearance of a man who'd been up for hours. "I understand that you wanted to visit one of our newest patients." He ran a hand over his shaggy dark hair.

"I was the arresting officer in the Ellison murder case," Joel let out a sigh. "I just wanted," he paused. "I don't know, I guess I've thought about Jim and wondered how he was."

"Your first big case," Dr. Wright gestured for Joel to follow him. "We can speak more privately in my office."

Meanwhile in a locked room in a section for the most violent offenders Jim huddled in a corner. He could hear the screams and rants from the others on his ward. Sniffling Jim slowly rocked himself. He'd stopped crying days ago. Clutching his hands tightly he tried not to scratch the rash that covered most of his body.

It would be a few hours yet until lunch not that Jim was hungry. His mouth and lips were covered with painful blisters from his last meal. He shifted his position on the padded stained floor. Today Ben was on duty. Ben always gave him extra water with crushed ice. Ice always soothed the pain in his mouth and throat from the appalling food.

The sounds of Dr. Wright talking with someone brought Jim's head up. He watched with wide eyes as the door opened.

"Ice," he whispered. "Please may I have some ice?"

After a painful hour a furious Joel left the Institute. He headed for the one person he knew could help Jim Ellison.

Fortunately, William Ellison's regular secretary had a dentist appointment. The secretary from the secretary pool turned out to be young and easily intimidated by the badge that Joel flashed.

William Ellison's corner office had an impressive view of Cascade. Photographs of Stephen Ellison and the late Grace Ellison decorated the massive dark desk.

"Your son needs your help." Joel said straight out.

"Stephen," fear flickered in William's light eyes. "Has something happened to Stephen?" time seemed to stand still as he waited for the big black man to speak.

"Jim," Joel said slowly.

Sitting down heavily in the leather chair bitterness filled the aristocratic face. "James is incarcerated." His cultured voice had a hard edge to it. There was no hint of forgiveness in the pain that flashed across his handsome face.

"Jim is suffering." Joel began.

"Do you think we're not?" William demanded. "Do you think that Grace," he had to stop to compose himself.

"Junk yard dogs are treated better than Jim is," Joel spoke urgently yet softly. "He's mentally ill. He doesn't deserve to have food burn blisters down his throat nor have a rash over his body from his clothes and bedding."

William's mouth hardened to a thin line. "He murdered his mother."

"Jim is locked up for life," Joel took a breath trying hard not to lose his temper. "He's a human being. He deserves humane treatment and mental care."

William could almost hear Grace's light voice. 'I raised him from six months. I loved him, Will.' The faint scent of her perfume seemed to fill the air space around him. It took a great deal of control not to look for her. Clearing his throat he said, "I'll look into it."

Unhappily Joel had to leave without knowing if the man would follow through. Worry over Jim's fate plagued him the rest of the week.

In the meantime William called a private detective that had a reputation for discreetness and integrity. "Look into my," it was hard to call Jim his son, "Uh, my son Jimmy's condition at the mental institute."

Six months later Jim sat in his new room. Hesitantly he tried the rice pudding. Instead of cow's milk the new cook had used goat's milk. Sweet, cool with a hint of vanilla the rice pudding danced down his throat. "Good," he smiled at Joel.

Improvements were slow but Joel could see that at least Jim no longer suffered from food that burned his throat, mouth and lips.

Metal mesh covered the small window that allowed sunlight into the small room. Jim still occupied a room in the violent ward but his clothes and bedding were now laundered in special soap.

"I got a new partner at work." Joel liked to share things on the outside with the young teenager.

"What's his name," Jim asked politely. He knew if he could keep Joel talking the man would stay the whole precious visiting hour. Every hour every day was marked until the precious biweekly visit. Jim intended to savor every moment.

"Simon Banks," Joel chuckled warmly. "He says he's going to be captain of Major Crimes someday. That's a loft goal for a brother."

BLAIR

"When is Naomi going to come back?" Blair watched as Sunshine milked the creamy white nanny goat.

"She gets out of jail next week." Sunshine patted the goat. The nanny chewed the grain in the bucket in front of her. They'd gotten a contract to sell pasteurized goat's milk to a mental hospital up in Washington. The money would go a long way with improving things at the changing commune.

Blair let out a long sigh. He liked the commune but it was changing. He knew that Naomi was no longer happy living at Dawn Light Commune and Farm. She was showing all the signs of being ready to move on.

"She always comes back," Sunshine said gently. While she would never say a negative word about a member of the commune, she thought that the flighty redhead needed to come home to tend to her son.

"Uh huh," Blair chewed his lower lip looking downcast.

"We have a special guest coming for sharing night," Sunshine said. She removed the full pail of milk from under the nanny goat. "Dr. Daniel Sinclair is an anthropologist. He's been studying tribes in the jungles of South America."

Curiosity brought Blair's head up from studying the barn floor. "Why's he been studying tribes in the jungles? I didn't know that tribes lived in the jungle. Don't the lions eat them?"

"Would you like to ask him?" Sunshine smiled.

Dr. Daniel Sinclair turned out to be warm and funny. Tanned by years of living outdoors he wore a brightly colored vest over a white Henley. Beads and feathers were worked into his blond ponytail. He showed slides of his travels through South America. "I lived on the Amazon River during the rainy season," he smiled as he talked. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he described how the river rose over its banks flooding villages.

Blair sat with his mouth wide open. He had never imagined living in a house built on stilts because every year it would be surrounded by flood water. He gasped along with the other children when the bearded young man told them about man eating fish.

That night Blair dreamed of clouds of brightly colored butterflies and birds flying through a green canopy of trees. There were large snakes overhead but they were friendly. In his dreams he was the anthropologist dressed in sturdy walking boots, khaki colored shorts and a bright vest. Someone tall he couldn't quite see walked at his side listening as he talked. Somehow Blair knew that his companion would always keep him safe.

Days later Naomi smiled as Blair followed her. She was pleased that he hadn't whined like he had when they'd left Timothy. "You'll love Nepal," she told him. "I scored first class airline tickets."

"Cool," Blair said. He had several notebooks to write observations down. He adjusted his backpack. Anthropologists traveled a lot. He'd said his goodbyes to Sunshine. The commune's address was in one of his notebooks. He smiled. Sunshine said that she'd be delighted to read some of his observations.

Naomi felt light heated. Blair had grown up so much. He could stay with Donna and Pete while she soaked up spiritual teachings. She held his hand as they walked towards the bus stop.

###

JIM

FIVE YEARS LATER

"You have to understand," the stern looking middle-aged nurse waited for the male orderly on the other side to open the mesh wire covered door. "When Officer Taggart failed to arrive for his usual biweekly visit Jim became a little agitated."

A loud buzz sounded as the orderly acknowledged their presence. The petite nurse led Officer Simon Banks into the maximum security wing of the new Crystal Falls Institute for the Criminally Insane. "Mr. Taggart has been Jim's only visitor in the past five years. He plans his days around seeing him."

Simon stretched his broad shoulders. "Joel is my police partner and friend. He's been hounding me to come up and let Jim know that he'll be up to seeing him soon. Well, at least as soon as he gets out of Cascade General." His mouth twisted into a grimace.

His dark eyes darted to the doors they passed. Violently criminally insane men were locked behind the silent doors. Occasionally he heard a loud voice emanate from behind one of the doors. He remembered reading that Ellison Corporation had taken an interest in improving the state hospital. Programs worked out with Rainier University had improved the condition of patients at the hospital.

It didn't seem surprising since the head of Ellison Corporation's son Jim Ellison was incarcerated in the hospital. A frown tugged on his face. He'd read Jim's file at Joel's insistence. As a young teenager Jim had beaten his stepmother Grace Ellison to death with a baseball bat. The prosecution had gotten him to admit that he hated his medication. On the stand Jim had confessed that he often thought that 'someone' was trying to poison him. The thought of a child killing his mother left a sour taste in Simon's mouth.

_What the hell have I gotten into?_ He gripped the book that Joel had sent tightly in his now sweaty hands.

"No need to be nervous," Nurse Patti Grayson stopped in front of the last door on the ward. "Most of our patients are medicated." She unlocked the heavy door. "We had Jim in a straight jacket and lightly sedated since Monday night." She had her hand on the door handle. "Meds have a strange effect on Jim so we also had him tied down to his bed. He can't hurt you. Please speak softly as loud noises tend to set him off."

Simon looked down into the nurse's dark eyes. He really didn't know what to expect. "Will he understand?"

A slight smile relaxed some of the sternness on the nurse's face. "Jim understands. If you gently stroke his head we discovered that he will remain calm enough to listen if you have any bad news." She unlocked the door pushing it open.

Simon had the oddest sensation that eyes were on him even as the nurse pushed the door open.

"Why is Joel in the hospital? Is he going to die?" Haunted blue eyes were locked onto Simon.

Simon's mouth dropped. In the soft defused light he stared passed another mesh wire door that separated the nurse's station from her patient. A young twenty year old man lay strapped down to a hospital bed. "You heard me?"

Nurse Grayson softly chuckled. "Our Jim has the ears of a bat."

A soft whisper came from Jim. "Is Joel going to die?"

"No, son," Simon approached the bed. His eyes scanned the form on the bed. Muscular legs were strapped spread to each side of the bed. Straps held him down at the waist and across the chest of the straight jacket. "Why is his head tied down?"

Nurse Grayson didn't look up as she tucked a blanket around Jim. "Jim bites when he gets upset."

Simon gingerly made his way up close to Jim's head. He tentatively reached over. Almost holding his breath he gently stroked Jim's short brown hair. He'd forgotten how hair other then black felt. The softness was a surprise. "Joel," Simon said in a soft voice that he usually reserved for children. "Joel was chasing a suspect and slipped on ice. He fell down a flight of stairs. He twisted his hip and cracked some ribs. He'll be out of the hospital by tomorrow."

"Joel's been in the hospital for three days?" Jim's voice quivered. Moisture gathered in his light blue eyes.

"Since Monday afternoon," Simon said. "He had stopped by a store to buy you some more crayons. He happened on a robbery." He continued to stroke the soft brown hair. Pity filled him. _What a hell of a way to live._

"My fault," Jim broke into a sob.

"Not your fault," Simon snapped. "Listen to me, young man. Joel is a cop. It's his duty to stop the bad guys. The last thing that Joel needs right now is to know that you've been misbehaving. You need to start behaving. Take whatever medicine that you need, quit giving your nurses a hard time and no more biting."

Jim sniffled looking embarrassed, "Yes, sir." His eyes were on Simon's face. "Is Joel going to visit me?" Jim shyly asked.

Simon exhaled. "Yes, he'll be here Monday. Now you don't want him to find you tied down do you?"

"No, sir," Jim whispered.

"We'll talk to the doctor," Simon patted him on the head. "Now do you want me to read to you? Joel sent a book for me to read to you."

Nurse Grayson cleared her throat. "Jim, listen to your story while I get Doctor McLain."

Simon pulled a chair from one corner of the hospital room so that he could sit near Jim's bed. It was then that he noticed the drawings taped up on one wall. Most were of a beautiful blond haired young woman. Simon recognized the woman from a photograph in Jim's file.

"Your drawings of your mother are very good." There was no denying the talent of a natural artist. He shook his head. It was incredible what Jim had drawn with simple crayons. *

"I miss my mother," Jim spoke softly. "I'm sorry I killed her." He closed his eyes. "Do you hate me like everyone else does?" His voice quivered.

"I don't hate you and neither does Joel," Simon said quietly. "He said that you wanted to hear stories about wolves. He sent the Jack London book White Fang."

Jim smiled. "There's a tablet in the corner. I drew some wolves. You can take it to Joel."

By the time Simon had gotten half way through the first chapter Jim had fallen asleep. Simon closed the book. Without knowing quite why he gently stroked Jim's forehead as strange feelings of protectiveness stirred inside of him. "I'll be back," he promised. _Where the hell had that come from?_

Jim's eyelids fluttered. "'Kay," came a muttered sleepy response.

Simon sighed as he looked down at the sleeping young man. Jim was only a few years younger than himself. He'd been born white, rich, handsome and insane. The very next time that Simon told himself that he felt like bitching he was going to think of Jim lying tied down to a hospital bed.

##

BLAIR

Aaron Sandburg had the same shade of curly hair as his sister Naomi. His light eyes twinkled as he regarded Blair. "I've heard three different versions of how you fell out of the tree in Mrs. Ellen Danburg's front yard."

Blair's face felt warm. "There's uh a tree house," he stammered. "I thought that it would be cool to fix it up again. Some of the floor boards were rotten."

"And it has a good view of Linda Maxwell's bedroom window," Aaron snorted a laugh.

Blair's face went a deep shade of scarlet. His eyes dropped to the cast on his arm. He stuck a pencil down the cast to scratch at an itch. Nervously he swung his insect bitten bare legs. His too short jeans had been cut off to become shorts for the hot muggy New Jersey summer.

Chuckling Aaron patted Blair on the shoulder. "No need to be embarrassed. Although no more boys will be falling out of that tree," he said. "I had a talk with both Ted Maxwell and George Danburg. That tree is coming down."

Blair looked up with a shocked expression on his face. "Mr. Danburg will kill me. No, Mr. Maxwell will kill me." He seemed barely aware of the sweat that trickled down from his curly mop of hair.

"No they won't," Aaron smiled. "I pointed out that the tree might come down in a storm. It'd take utility lines down with it. Situated where it is the old tree will also take down most of the fence between the Maxwell house and the Danburg house."

"Oh," Blair felt relieved. "Is Naomi going to be coming home soon?" Blair leaned back in the wicker chair. Here it was July. Everyone had gone swimming. Blair hoped that the rest of the summer won't suck.

"My little sister got arrested for throwing paint on some ladies in mink coats." Aaron ran a hand through his curly auburn hair. It was clear that Naomi exasperated him.

"Naomi says that animals shouldn't be killed to become coats for rich old ladies." Blair said loyally.

Aaron let out a sigh. He handed Blair a glass of sweet ice tea. "How would you like to spend the summer with me, Blair? I drive long distances in my truck. It's got a sleeper compartment."

"Wow, could I?" Blair's eyes lit up. "Oh," he paused. He thought of Naomi. Usually she liked him to stay somewhere that she knew so she could pick him up in a hurry if they had to move suddenly. Usually that meant that she'd broken up with some guy.

"Naomi isn't going to be getting out for several weeks. You know how she is. When she gets out she'll want to process." Aaron sighed. He reached over for a box next to his wicker chair. "I got you some books since you are interested in anthropology."

"Anthropology books," Blair's eyes zeroed in on the books that Aaron took out of the box. "My dad traveled with Dr. Feinstein." He said by way of explaining. "They traveled a lot and studied a lot of South American cultures. One of Dr. Feinstein's heroes was Sir Richard Burton. Not the actor," Aaron explained. "These books should go to you. They're part of your heritage."

Blair put down his glass of tea. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jean cutoffs. Eagerly he took the book that Aaron handed him. "Sentinels of Peru," he read the title of the thick book.

"My dad talked a lot about Sentinels," Aaron looked out over the quiet lawn and beyond to the shaded street. "I almost got the impression that he thought that Dr. Feinstein was one of those sentinels."

Blair's eyes got big. "Sentinels are real."

A smile played across Aaron's face. "You know we of the Sandburg family have a lot of wanderlust running through our veins. As Jews are people have been hounded from country to country."

Blair's head came up. "Naomi said that I can choose my religion when I get older. She doesn't discuss being Jewish."

Aaron's eyebrows crawled up into his hairline. "What about Bar Mitzvah?"

Blair dropped his eyes to the photograph in the Sentinel book. A slow warming blush went up his face.

"We'll fix that," Aaron said firmly. "Come on, Blair. We're going to have dinner over at Cousin Joshua's house. His scrappy dog had pups. I need a truck dog to travel with me-us."

"A puppy," Blair squealed. He was up on his feet following his uncle.

"Yeah," Aaron smiled. "By the time we get to New Mexico to see my youngest brother your Uncle Danny, you'll be ready for Bar Mitzvah."

"Uncle Danny is some kind of artist." Blair carried his precious books as he followed Aaron.

"He's finding himself as an artist welder." Aaron said. "You have some cousins by way of his wife Nina."

###

SHE WHO WALKS WITH WOLVES

Jim felt the grass beneath him. He opened his eyes. He could see a midmorning sky above the trees. Sitting up he looked around. He was no longer in his hospital bed. He didn't recognize the forest where he was laying.

"Good, you have finally woken," said a gently soft female voice.

Jim whirled around. A short round faced dark skinned woman with waist length thick black hair stood in front of a deer skinned tipi. Howling, running and playing wolves decorated the tipi. Turquoise beads decorated the young woman's fringed buckskin dress. "Come, Little One," she motioned to him. "The Shaman waits for you in the jungle."

Jim rose uncertainly. "Jungle," he looked around at the forest setting. Tall pines, bushy ferns stood amid moss covered rocks. "This looks like Washington." In the distance he could hear the echo of the energetic tapping of a woodpecker.

A warm soft plump hand took his. "Come, you must walk in the jungle."

"I don't know your name." Jim let himself be led through the cool serene forest. He brushed past ferns decorated with beads of water. Water dampened his clothes and skin. It felt refreshing instead of chilling.

"I am called She Who Walks with Wolves," the woman stopped. She looked up at him. "Don't let go of my hand."

Jim nodded, "All right." He followed the Native American woman as she led him down the path through the tall pine trees. The forest soon gave way to a hot steamy jungle. Jim clung to the warm soft hand.

Brightly colored birds flew overhead. The jungle seemed alive with almost unbearable sounds. A large long snake slithered overhead through the branches of the trees. "He won't hurt you, Jim."

They soon came to a clearing. A man dressed differently then She Who Walks with Wolves sat waiting for them. He rose from the ground. "You brought the watchman."

"The Panther has been lost in the forest for many passes of Sister Moon," the young woman led Jim to the Chopec Shaman.

Incacha nodded. "I have heard the Panther's cry from a great distance. I was unable to find it. Thank you for bringing him to me." He held out a brown hand to Jim, "Come, I won't hurt you, Little One."

As he hesitated his companion gently pulled him forward to Incacha. She placed his sweaty hand into the Chopec's. "He will awaken your Panther soul."

Two black Panthers sauntered into the clearing. Jim shrank back. One of the Panthers growled and backed away. It disappeared back into the jungle. The remaining Panther stood warily watching Jim. Its' tail lashed from side to side. Incacha frowned. "His Panther soul is too injured. This one will need help if he is to be a true guardian."

She Who Walks with Wolves shook the folds of her buckskin dress. "He lost his mother when he was young. His heart is wounded. He needs love." A small fat grey and white wolf cub tumbled out onto the ground.

Without thinking Jim let go of Incacha's hand. Delighted he scooped up the whimpering cub. "A puppy," he hugged the soft wiggling wolf cub. "Can I keep him?"

Incacha smiled. "You may keep him. He is your Guide." He watched the single Panther. The big black cat purred as he approached the watchman. With a single bound the Panther leaped. Jim staggered back as the Panther leaped into him. "Your spirit has also accepted him."

Nodding Incacha turned to the Spirit woman. "He needs to learn to be a man. It isn't good for the watchman to remain a child."

"Jim is in a place where those touched by madness dwell." She looked thoughtful. "There are some I can reach. They will teach him."

"I killed my mother," Jim trembled as he held the wolf cub. The cub made happy noises as he licked Jim's face.

"No," the Shaman and the Spirit woman both said. "You didn't kill your mother. In time when the wolf is grown he will free you. Until then learn from the ones that are sent to teach you."

Hugging his new companion Jim nodded. "I will," he promised.

###

THE SOLDIER

"Captain H. M. Murdock," Dr. Wells studied the paperwork in front of him. "Numerous citations, Silver Star," he shook his head. Another damaged soldier from the Viet Nam war he scanned the rest of the paperwork. "Legally insane," he looked up at the MP. "Why transfer the captain to a facility in California?"

"Captain Murdock escaped from his last facility, Sir," the MP glanced towards the sedated and straight jacked man in the wheelchair. "The captain had some serious issues with the doctors at his last facility."

It was supposed to go like clockwork. Face's eyes widen as he spotted a familiar figure coming down the hallway. "Excuse me, sir." He hurriedly ducked down another hallway. His only way of escaping capture was to exit the hospital and hope like hell that Murdock got transferred to the hospital that Hannibal had said would be the best one.

Dr. Wells frowned. He shook his head. "No, I think that you need a better hospital." He made several notations on the paperwork in front of him. Looking up he realized that the MP had disappeared. He picked up a phone. "I have a transfer."

TBC

{* all crayon artists. Don Marco .com/

Jeffery Roberts /

Kristina Nelson .com/ }


	4. Chapter 4

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

BEGGERS WOULD RIDE;

IF TURNIPS WERE WATCHES

I'D WEAR ONE BY MY SIDE.

AND IF IFS AND ANDS WERE POTS AND PANS,

THE TINKER WOULD NEVER WORK!

#####

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

Chapter Four

First he was aware that he was warm and comfortable. Next, a grin split Murdock's lean face. No straightjacket! Something did constrict his chest. Slowly he opened his eyes as he stretched out on the comfortable bed. He wasn't tied down!

"Peach," he gazed at the soft peach colored walls of his room. He frowned. The walls of the institution should have been covered by a shade of industrial paint. The government choices of paint were enough to make him regret enlisting. He tilted his head as he studied the cheerful room. Had he been rescued by Hannibal? He frowned. Vaguely he recalled being examined by a doctor, screaming hysterically and he sucked in a deep breath. Someone had rescued him from the space alien that had tried to-. Don't go there something inside of him warned Murdock.

A soft ding came from outside his room. Murdock turned his head. He could see nurses and orderlies moving down the hallway. Nope. He was in some sort of hospital. The familiar medicine smells now seemed to assault his nose. He sighed. Cautiously he sat up. A twinge in his ribcage reminded him of the horrible monster that had tried to carry him off. He grimaced as pain throbbed at the base of his spine.

Gingerly he pressed his hands over his warm flannel pajama top. Definitely some sort of bandage had been wrapped around his damaged ribcage.

A dark haired orderly pushing a wheelchair approached Murdock's bedroom door.

Murdock's lower lip started to tremble. "No more pink elephants," he hoarsely whispered. "It's against regulations to hand over prisoners to the space aliens," he warned. He pulled back against the wall behind his bed. His whole body trembled. "I won't go for any more experiments on the space ship." His voice rose in a child like whine.

Ben had a gentle smile on his face. He'd been brought over from the violent criminally insane ward to help out with the new patients from the recently destroyed veterans' hospital. It was Ben's gentle touch with Jim Ellison that had brought him to the attention of the doctor in charge of the mentally ill former soldier. "Captain Murdock," he spoke in the gentlest of tones. "Would you care to join the men for breakfast? You can have your meal delivered to your room if you prefer."

Nervously Murdock licked his lips. "I want a flight attendant to take me." He pulled up his pillow as a shield. Tremors of fear ran though his lean body.

"Of course," Ben nodded. He turned and called to someone that Murdock couldn't see from where he huddled on his bed. "Lisa, could you take Captain Murdock down to breakfast? I need to take Jim's special breakfast up to him next."

Murdock's eyes went wide. The petite blond who answered to the name Lisa had big blue eyes and, "You're wearing a Disney smock!" His pillow dropped. His delighted eyes went over the various Disney characters on the dark blue smock. "Mickey, Pluto," he sighed happily. "Requesting Lt. Lisa as my flight instructor," he snapped a salute.

Lisa all of eighteen and two months giggled. "You're cute."

"Well, I'm Captain Howling Mad Murdock the cute!" He managed to untangle himself from his covers. He was delighted to discover that his brown flannel pajamas had cowboys on them. "I like these. They're regulation you know."

"Your Uncle Hannibal brought you these slippers." Ben held out a pair of Disney Mickey headed slippers in adult size.

"Mickey! Hannibal! Can I see Uncle Hannibal?" Murdock discovered that he could stand. He grinned happily.

"One step at a time," Lisa and Ben helped him to his wheelchair. Murdock took a deep breath. It took an effort but at last he was able to coordinate his leg movements. His bottom still hurt. He laid a hesitant hand over his abdomen.

"You're okay, Sergeant," he said. He dropped his eyes shyly as Ben looked up from putting the new slippers on Murdock's feet. He rubbed his abdomen. "We're hungry," he whispered.

"Let's get you down to breakfast. Your uncle and cousin are talking to Doctor Wade Johnson. He's in charge of your case." Ben smiled gently. He'd been briefed on the strange delusions that seemed to plague Murdock.

###

Former Lieutenant-Colonel John Hannibal Smith gritted his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to punch big holes repeatedly into a wall.

"We're lucky that Dr. Wells discovered the extent of the injuries to your nephew." Dr. Wade Johnson a good deal younger than Hannibal indicated Murdock's file spread out on his desk.

"The orderly who beat and raped my nephew," Hannibal managed to keep the fury out of his voice. It had taken some time to track Murdock to the hospital in Crystal Falls, Washington. "He can't get away with hurting Murdock." His voice had become harsh and hard.

"No," Dr. Johnson nodded. "Unfortunately, Murdock is in no condition mentally to testify but the beating was caught on tape." Only the beating his eyes said sadly. "As for sexual assault," he paused. "We can't prove who or if it was consensual. Questioning Murdock will only confuse him." He looked down at the files spread in front of him. "He's much like a small child. I really don't want to push his fragile barriers. As it is he had to be treated for hysteria since he is convinced that he is pregnant."

Hannibal drew in a lungful of air. He nodded. Someone would pay for this he vowed. "I'd like to see my nephew." Even if Murdock was no longer able to help them he mentally vowed to make regular visits. He wouldn't just abandon the man.

"Captain Murdock should be waking up again. I really hadn't wanted to sedate him again." He rose from his chair. "He was so hysterical that we had to put him under twice." He let out a sigh.

Both men were surprised to discover that Murdock had been taken to the dining hall.

Templeton 'Face' Page sat on one side of the small table smiling at Murdock. "You're doing quite well, Captain." Mentally he'd castrated himself over and over for not knowing that Murdock had been sexually assaulted. He slowly sucked in a breath. The rapist would soon be dealt with by BA.

##

Hannibal expressed surprise at the light cheery dining area. From the windows they had an impressive view of the Cascade Mountains.

"Our more social mental patients come here for meals." Dr. Johnson smiled. "Now that we're temporarily housing vets from the VA hospital we're having the vets with mental issues come to this dining room." Instead of long tables smaller round and square tables had been set up so that the room resembled more an eating area in a mall instead of a dining room in a hospital.

"You must not have many vets here." Hannibal smiled in Murdock's direction. The man happily chatted with Face and a young aid wearing a Disney character smock.

"Those vets with medical problems are being housed temporarily at Cascade General Hospital in Cascade." The doctor led Hannibal to Murdock's table.

"I'm keeping my flight attendant," Murdock looked up at Hannibal. Lisa giggled.

###

Jim paced his room. Breakfast was late. Anxiously he stared at the locked door to his room. Today Ben was supposed to be here. Angry and worry rose inside of him. Ben had been going to see the other ward.

He sucked in a breath. Even through the locked door he could hear the murmurings of the other men on the ward.

Ben always had an extra treat or kind word for him. Jim rarely saw any familiar friendly face. His only other visitor was Joel. He let out a long sigh. He hoped that breakfast wouldn't be too late. He was hungry this morning.

He turned. He was in the forest. Everything including what should have been vibrant green bushy ferns was blue. "Little One," She Who Walks with Wolves greeted him. "You are about to meet one of your teachers."

"One of my teachers," Jim walked aside the young woman as she led him down a path through the forest. He could hear odd happy sounds.

"This one will teach you to be a soldier. You will learn the true meaning of loyalty from the men that will be set in your path." She pointed to an opening.

It appeared to be an airfield. Jim stepped forward. He realized that his companion had disappeared. He let out a sigh and continued walking.

Small airplanes of by gone eras were parked in front of large airplane hangars. He could see the man working on an old fashion airplane.

"Jim," the voice called from a distant place.

Reluctantly Jim turned. He blinked. He was back in his room. Ben held his tray. A worried expression on his face Ben approached Jim slowly. "You have my lunch." Jim went to the chair bolted to the floor.

Meanwhile a happy Murdock had eaten most of his lunch. "We want bread and butter pickles on chocolate ice cream." He looked across the table at Hannibal.

Hannibal smiled gently at Murdock. "You know Captain that a pilot is protected against having unauthorized passengers assigned to them."

Murdock's lower lip quivered. He slowly inhaled. His eyes brightened. "No unauthorized passengers." A thoughtful look came over his youthful face. He smiled. "No space alien babies," he whispered.

After staying an hour Hannibal reluctantly left telling Murdock he'd be back again tomorrow. "Templeton and I are staying at the Cascade Harbor Motel." He reassured Murdock. "We're not abandoning you, Captain."

##

BA slammed down the phone. Hannibal had been very clear about Captain Murdock's delusions of being pregnant by a space alien. He repeated punched holes in the wall. "NO ONE hurts that crazy fool," he snarled.

An hour later while spitting up broken teeth a military prisoner confessed to a series of assaults.

####

Slipping out of his room Murdock dressed as an orderly made his way through the hospital corridors. Hannibal had told him where he and Templeton were waiting. He just knew that he was expected to escape to reach them.

A screaming confrontation caught Murdock's attention. The usually locked door to the violent ward stood wide open. From where he stood Murdock could see three orderlies wrestling with a wild screaming patient. More orderlies were running in his direction.

Murdock found himself being swept into the ward.

Inside his room Jim raised his head. He was on his feet.

Edging away from the tangle of bodies Murdock managed to unlock a door and slip inside.

"You fix planes," Jim said.

Murdock slowly turned around. He was in the violent ward after all. Unlike the other rooms this one had been divided in two. He was standing outside a screened bared door.

"I'm an orderly," Murdock said.

"I saw you at the old Clear View Airfield." Jim said. In the dim light he pointed to a new picture taped to the wall in the outer section of his room. "See," he pointed to the drawing.

Murdock's mouth opened. "It's me. I'm fixing an old biplane." He smiled. He liked that. He sighed. He'd love to own that little lovely looking peace of heaven. "Would you like to meet Hannibal?"

Jim watched as the slender young man picked the lock. At six foot one Murdock and Jim were the same height. Much of Murdock's light brown hair had receded leaving him with a high forehead. A child like smile flickered across the pilot's face. "I'd like to see the airport."

"It's up for sale," Jim told him.

"You have to come back here," Murdock said. "I'm not supposed to help prisoners escape."

"Of course I'll come back," Jim said puzzled. "This is my home."

###

TBC

Next chapter Blair and his Sentinel theories.


	5. Chapter 5

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

(I haven't read romance novel for well over forty years. Wow, I didn't realize there was no much sex in them. Uh hum, well since I figure Blair was written in canon as sort of a young man with a healthy appetite for sex so according to canon he gets laid a lot. That of course sends this story in an interesting direction.)

Chapter Five

JIM

"But why can't I keep him?" Murdock whined.

"Because you crazy fool," a heavily muscular black man with layers of gold chains hanging around his neck grabbed the whining Murdock by his shirt. "He's crazier then you are." BA's biceps bugled as he lifted Murdock so that they were nose to nose.

Behind them a growl rose from deep in Jim's chest.

"Don't you be growling at me you crazy fool! I'll knock you and this other crazy fool's heads together. You'll be scrambled permanently onto the other side!" BA stared hard at Jim. One Bosco Albert, 'Bad Attitude', Baracus wasn't afraid of anything-well except for flying.

A crazy man who said that another crazy man had a Panther soul didn't frighten BA. He'd just knock their heads together. Still he lowered Murdock to the ground. He made a show of dusting off his sleeveless tee shirt. "Crazy fools," he muttered.

"Stand down, Sergeant," a sliver haired man approached the men. "Murdock, you know that Jim has to go back to the hospital before anyone noticed that he's gone." He waved an unlighted cigar at Jim. "You know that, son, don't you?"

Jim squared his muscular shoulders, "Yes, sir." Time and constant workouts in his room had given his body a muscular well defined look.

Hannibal Smith smiled. "You know with your incredible senses that we will come to borrow you from time to time. After all you are part of the team. At the moment we need you to return to your home."

Jim brightened. He could see Murdock grinning wildly at the pronunciation.

Smith patted Jim's muscular arm. "You keep up the exercises, Sergeant. You need to keep fit. Also keep up with the book lessons. A soldier needs a sharp mind."

"You promoted the crazy fool?" A scowl further darkened BA's ebony face.

"BA, Jim did an incredible job for us. It's a field promotion, son," He returned Jim's smart salute. "Put him back, Murdock."

"Yes, sir," Murdock sighed loudly. Any protest died when he saw the look on BA's face. In spite of any irritation that the bigger man often expressed he was Murdock's main protector. Murdock turned to Jim taking him by the hand. "It's time to go home." He led Jim back through the forest towards the Mental Institution. Jim didn't seem at all disturbed to be going back to the home he'd had since he'd turned fifteen.

BA watched them disappear into the thick forest. He just shook his head, "Another crazy fool on this team?"

Smith smiled, "From time to time." He carefully wrote out a note and handed it to BA. _Jim might hear us. I reviewed his file. We can only use him on occasion. He is too dangerous to use all the time._

BA grunted that he understood. They both silently waited for Murdock to return.

Murdock accompanied Jim back inside the hospital. He gave his friend a good-bye hug. "I promise to visit in a couple of weeks. Just as soon as I can give my new flight instructor the slip. I'll teach you all you need to know about being a Sergeant. I promise."

Blair

"Its hyper awareness, Blair," Donna pulled the baggy tee shirt over her slender torso. Goose bumps rose all over her creamy smooth skin. It was chilly in the warehouse. She scowled at the young man she'd just been intimate with. He was good looking, smart, funny and hell in bed. It was just that she couldn't be tied to someone who might have no future no matter how impressive his dick was. She couldn't see living with him permanently in the old warehouse.

Blair adjusted his wire rimmed glasses. Good sex and the mellow feeling were being eclipsed by the old argument. He let out an irritated sigh. He watched Donna slid her skinny jeans up her slender hips. His body took notice that she was wearing the pink silk bikini panties he'd given her for her birthday.

"It's a genetic advantage." Some of Blair's higher brain still had oxygen. He absentmindedly scratched at the thick curly hair that covered his muscular chest. Gloria had introduced him to exercise. Exercising his body had led him to Ann, Linda and sweet Donna his soul mate.

"Don't start with that Sir Richard Burton crap," irritated Donna pulled her light blond hair back into a ponytail. She picked up her book filled backpack. "A century ago mentally ill people were thought to be possessed by demons." She tossed her head impatiently. "Sir Richard Burton was a man of his times. You need to update your studies. You're not going to prove your dissertation." She wanted to goad him into doing better.

A man was supposed to provide. Her mother had made some sharp observations about Donna's payment of food and supplies for the TA she'd been sleeping with. The remarks still stung. Looking around she wondered now if there were some among her society friends that were snickering behind her back.

"Gees, Donna, what about perfume sniffers in France or food tasters?" Blair flung back the covers forgetting his nudity. "They're anomalies that can only be explained by the Sentinel theory."

"Blair, you're supposed to have an open mind not be locked into one theory." She flung his boxers at him ignoring the impressive male organ that had been pounding her senseless a few minutes previously. "Do you really want to be considered a nut case following junk science?" she demanded.

"Donna, you know this is important to me," Blair shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe the one girl he thought was his soul mate was turning on him. He struggled to put his flannel plaid boxers on. Goosebumps rippled over his skin. He shivered. One of the drawbacks to living in the warehouse was the damned cold. He hated cold.

"Yeah, well," Donna let out a frustrated breath. "Don't call me." She grabbed the doorknob. "I don't want to be stuck with a man with no future. I'd sooner marry a dumb jock." She jerked open the door. "The sex would be better," she threw over her shoulder. The door slammed behind her. The sound echoed through the chilly warehouse.

"Shit, shit," Blair ran his hands through his curly hair. He dropped down on the edge of his bed. The tangle of warm sheets reminded him that once again he'd had his heart stomped on. Inhaling he cast an eye on the clock on his nightstand. "Shit!" He jumped up.

He jerked open the door. Donna's little red Ferrari was gone. He retreated back inside. Hastily he dressed. Grabbing his black leather backpack Blair hurriedly locked the door to his side of the metal warehouse. He had to run a block but he made it to the bus stop just as the city bus pulled to a stop.

Three years later

"You really should pick another dissertation." The elder man looked up from Blair's thesis. A slight look of disapproval spoke volumes as he tapped the papers in front of him. "You haven't been able to find a Sentinel in modern society."

"No," Blair's wide shoulders dropped. "Most of those with more than one heightened senses I found were mentally ill." He stated gloomily. His hopes had been pinned on a woman named Alexandra Barnes. Unfortunately she'd been shot and killed by a security guard as she'd tried to break into the University medical lab. "None of them would have been able to protect the tribe."

Professor Eli Stoddard sighed. He had some idea of where Blair's thoughts had strayed. He'd also had a quiet visit from some military types, something that Blair would never know about. He cleared his throat. "You can rewrite your dissertation," he said gently.

Blair looked up. "I know with enough time I can prove that Sentinels exist."

"There isn't enough time, young Blair," Eli said. "In these economic times the university is putting pressure on publishing that will lead to grants. You can rewrite a dissertation on Sentinels in ancient times." He pointed out. "With an additional degree you'll have options. You can teach or perhaps find someone to fund a field study."

Slowly Blair nodded. He had to be practical. "I'll continue the Sentinel research on my own," he vowed.

"Of course," Professor Stoddard managed not to let his disappointment show. It pained him greatly to see a brilliant mind so hung up on junk science.

"Hi, Nina," Blair caught up to the curvy dark haired nursing major. She had a real kinky side when it came to sex. He needed a good roll in the sack to lift his spirits. He could get naked and pretend to be a werewolf ravishing a young woman.

"Hi, Blair," Nina batted her dark eyelashes. "How's my favorite werewolf?" She let a giggle escape her. She eyed his short hair. "I heard that you broke up with Donna." She didn't mention that Donna had told everyone what a loser Blair was. She according to gossip was done slumming.

"Things happened," Blair shrugged. "I moved into the Seaward Motel." A shiver ran through his compact body as he thought of the explosion that had destroyed the warehouse he'd been renting. He automatically reached up to touch his shorter hair. He'd been lucky, the police had told him, to get off with just singed hair and a few bruises when the meth lab next door to him had exploded.

"The Seaward Motel," Nina had been there with Jeff or was it Tom? No matter. She knew from experience that it was on the seedy side. She leaned a shapely hip against his groin. "Has my little wolf christened his bed yet?" She had the sleeping bag in the trunk of her car for just such emergencies.

"Uh no," it felt suddenly warm as Nina rubbed her hip against him.

"Well," Nina smiled. "We have to remedy that. We can order take out Chinese for later," she wrapped a possessive arm around Blair. "After we eat we can talk about the woman who showed up with heightened hearing." She didn't have to explain to him that she'd had help finding the woman or that there was a big wad of cash in her new designer purse. She smiled.

"Heightened hearing," Blair grinned. Sex and heightened senses, the day was definitely improving.

A week later Blair sat in front of the little desk that his computer rested on. With Nina's help he'd been able to find several normal people with heightened senses. He smiled. The motel might be a little on the rundown side but it had a great heating system. He sighed. Life was good.

The door opened as Nina came in with take out. "Hi, Blair," she closed the door after her. She eyed the dog collar that Blair wore. Just like the man had said. Blair had been easy enough to tame to her will. A smile spread over her lips. Once her prized wolf was tame enough she'd approach the idea of a legal ceremony. A porno of her in a white wedding dress being ravished by her werewolf husband would be a good seller. They could move to a better place. "I picked up the mail. You got a check from the magazine." She tossed him the envelope.

"Great," Blair sprang to his feet. The nametags on his collar jingled. At Nina's insistence he'd written an article for some small magazines about heightened hearing. He tore open the envelope. "Wow," he grinned. "They paid me three hundred dollars." He eyed the accompanying letter. "They want more articles!"

"Fantastic," Nina didn't mention that Star News was an alternative magazine. She'd gotten a bonus for getting him to submit articles to all three magazines her client wanted. "We should celebrate."

Across town the next morning Professor Eli Stoddard clicked his disapproval as he eyed the magazine that someone had left on his desk. "Flying saucers," he shuddered. "Alien cattle mutilations," he felt the disappointment grow as he spotted Professor Blair Sandburg's name prominently displayed on the cover. "Dear boy, didn't you think? No respectable scientist publishes in this trash." He opened to the article.

%%%%

'Evidence of Ancient Supermen' by Professor Blair Sandburg, Chancellor Edwards choked on her morning coffee. "Oh goddess," she sputtered. "Associated with Rainier University," she almost cried.

Being the female head of a University was something some women would have ripped out their ovaries for. All sorts of curse words wandered through the middle aged woman's mind. "No way are you going to ruin this for me." She vowed.

%%

"Killing someone is messy and not necessary," a man of wealth looked at his son. "Your problem with Professor Blair Sandburg is taken care of." He threw the slick glossy magazine on the table in front of Brad. "I've just ruined his reputation. Chancellor Edwards will be giving him the boot." He threw a couple more sensational style magazines on the coffee table.

A slow grin crossed Brad's handsome face.

"Now wipe that grin off of your face young man. You are headed to a military academy."

"Dad," Brad stammered. His heart thundered in his muscular chest. "I'm enrolled at Rainier."

"You'll go and get straightened out or I'll have a certain doctor I know chemically castrate you." Hard eyes were on the young blond man in front of him. "I didn't build an empire just to have you dick it away raping young women. Look at William Ellison. He built an empire and he didn't hesitate to put his eldest son away." Admiration filled the man's voice. His rival was known behind his back as Shark Ellison. He could only hope to be so cold blooded.

"Dad, I promise to be good." Brad whined. This couldn't be happening. Daddy usually gave him free rein and whatever he wanted. "You can't let some little slut ruin this for me."

"Oh, you'll be good" came the hard warning. "I paid off the young lady and her family. She'll be attending a respectable university in Southern California. Once her therapy is finished the young lady will move on with her life. Her parents are assured of a comfortable life here in Cascade. As for you, I can always marry again and have another son."

Brad swallowed. He stood. His father he knew could have him 'disappear in an accident'. "I'll make you proud."

"You'd better."

"Fired," Blair stared numbly at Chancellor Edwards.

"There is a moral's clause in your contract," the middle aged woman said stiffly. She couldn't have hoped for a better opportunity. "The porno film you and Miss Nina Dawson filmed is grounds to get you dismissed." She tossed the film with its provocative cover on her desk for Blair to see. She couldn't believe the young man she'd backed would turn out so wrong.

'Professor Werewolf and the nimble Nina', he choked. "I uh," he stammered. How could she have filmed them without him knowing? Dimly he remembered the funny noise that had come from the air vents from time to time. Oh shit, he thought.

Leaving in a daze Blair soon discovered that Nina was gone. Only an 'I'm really sorry', note had been left. "You got to move," the motel manager was apologetic. "The place got bought up by Ellison Enterprises."

Blair threw all of his belongings into his Corvair. He noticed an envelope taped to the dash. Inside he discovered a note from Nina. _There's a little university in New Mexico that doesn't care if you're Jack the Ripper. They need teachers to teach. Still sorry but here's your half of the money from the film. Nina. _

"Her math is really shitty," Blair muttered. He drove east. Six thousand dollars meant he had a cushion. "I'll be back and I'll prove my Sentinel theory is correct," he vowed.

It was at a stop in Las Vegas that he met Gina. She was the only woman in the scorching hot city that seemed to be wearing long sleeves. Her slender body seemed well covered. White sun screen covered her petite nose. She had the whitest skin he'd ever seen. It seemed very erotic. Just an intriguing dash of freckles dotted her cheeks. "Are you really a professor," she giggled. The redhead used her teeth to nibble on her straw. "I know that the private college in Lin, Nevada needs a professor. I go to school there."

The position turned out to be half the money he'd made at Rainier. "You'll have a small house," the University president took Blair on a tour once Blair expressed interest. The said house was neat clean and most of all it was in a warm okay hot dry climate.

The alternative college didn't mind if Professor Sandburg pursued Sentinel theories. After all they had an ESP lab and a ghost hunting lab on the premises.

"What's a Sentinel," Gina asked as she moved into the house with Blair. Once he explained she grew thoughtful. "You know I know a couple of Native Americans who might be able to help you."

Three months later William Ellison fumed over the new magazine articles. "Why is this man still publishing? I don't want anyone coming to disturb Jimmy." He was still afraid after all this time that someone might look up the story on his eldest son.

Stephen sighed. His older brother resided in one of the best rated mental hospitals. It hardly seemed fair since Jimmy had killed their mother. "We can't move him, Dad."

William frowned. "Are those policemen still visiting him?"

"Yes," Stephen sighed. "We could see to it that Jimmy doesn't have visitors other than family."

Slowly William nodded. "The new wing," he paused. "Jimmy could be moved to the more secure wing of the hospital." Still a handsome man William had recently taken a new wife. Amanda was pregnant with a son. He looked to Stephen. "We'll hire the bodyguards I discussed earlier. I want Amanda and the baby to be safe if god forbid Jimmy should ever escape."

Nervously Stephen licked his lips. He thought of his fiancé. "Perhaps we should add more security to the house."

William understood. "I'll discreetly offer Jon Winston protection. Once you're married Lindsey will be safe in our home."

Miles away Murdock whistled as he worked on the plane engine. He'd been declared mental fit a few months earlier. Hannibal had somehow come up with the money to purchase the small airfield outside of Cascade. The team had had to relocate when things got too hot in LA.

"Fool, we got company," BA looked up from working on a jeep motor. A slow smile spread over his face.

Tanya Johnson got out of her car. She'd been told only the A Team could help her.

Murdock looked up with a smile. He really hoped that they'd be able to take Jimmy with them this time. He liked his special friend. Only Jimmy understood what living in a mental hospital was all about.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

BEGGARS WOULD RIDE;

(Sorry for the delay. Real life has been supper busy. Elderly parental unit got a broken hip, surgery etc. Son had an operation after an emergency visit to hospital. Could use any good vibes anyone can send my way. )

Chapter Six

BLAIR

Gina sat cross legged on the folded up black and red woolen blanket under the canvas awning. Being outside was a sacrifice and deadly for her chalk white tender skin. She sighed as she made notes in the spiral notebook. She'd do anything for Blair. A slight smile formed on her lips. Since the day she'd moved in with him she'd organized his work and his life.

Shifting her weight on the blanket she fanned herself. The dry heat seemed to suck the moisture out of her skin. A small white cooler by the blanket held water bottles. It was never a good idea to travel the Nevada desert without water. Like always she'd seen to it that today's expedition had been properly supplied.

All of Blair's notes, she paused; Professor Sandburg's notes were in order. She sniffled. "Dumb, dumb," she muttered to herself unhappily. Blair was going to dump her. She knew the signs. He was funny and charismatic. All the young women on campus loved him. He seemed to be a born flirt. Far worse she was beginning to get the feeling that he'd never been faithful to anyone. At every gathering she'd had to peel some aggressive coed off of him. She should have never gotten involved with the sexy professor. She bit her lip.

Blair came out of the cave. He blinked against the bright Nevada sun. A floppy canvas hat quickly covered his mop of sweaty curly hair. "Most of the cave art seems to be related to hunting magic," Blair spoke into the recorder.

A curvy blond in too short kaki colored short shorts followed Blair. She pulled a pair of designer sunglasses out of her pocket. Shooting a triumphant look in Gina's direction she wrapped a possessive arm around Blair's waist. He's given her a kiss and a hug when they'd found the last section of ancient art. "We should celebrate at Mac's," she mentioned the bar that most of the student body went to off the small school campus.

Angie had mentally added one professor to the imaginary score card she had. The thought made her smile. The anthropology class would give her the final credits she needed to graduate. She frowned slightly. Getting a degree from a no named college didn't seem as glamorous as her sister Jamie's degree from Harvard. Still she'd have a degree. That was the important thing. Getting a rich husband would be next. In the meantime she could have a little fun with the sexy professor of anthropology.

Watching as Blair and Angie came out of the small cave Gina thought of how quickly she could pack up her stuff. Finding an apartment in the small town of Lin would be difficult but there was a room for rent over the tiny drug store in town. Gripping her pen tightly Gina vowed she won't cry. Next semester she'd transfer to the college up at Las Vegas. She only had one semester to finish and then she could graduate. She drew in a lung full of the dry Nevada desert air to steady her nerves.

Blair grinned. Celebrating sounded like fun. There really wasn't much to do in the small town that existed outside of the college. He and Gina often let off steam at Mac's. With her alabaster skin Gina avoided being outdoors.

"Good idea," he shoved the micro tape recorder into his pocket. "Gina, we found cave art that depicts Sentinels." He almost sprinted to Gina's side. The next order of business would be to re-interview the small Paiute tribe that lived on the tiny reservation.

Angie pouted unhappily. Professor Sandburg had seemingly dismissed her. Having a man dismiss her was something that never happened to her before. She eyed Gina. The young woman was too pasty white and not really pretty. She had thick ankles and man hands. Whatever did the professor see in her?

"We should celebrate at Mac's. We'll even try that new vegetarian dish that Mac's been boasting about." He grinned happily. His sapphire blue eyes swept over Gina noting that she seemed uncomfortable. The heat no doubt was getting to her. Worry slammed into him. She was more fragile than most of the women he'd ever dated.

"Angie," he shouted over his shoulder. "We should pack up." He turned back to Gina. She was the best research assistant he'd ever had. Not to mention that she was great in bed. Amazingly she was also a domestic goddess. She could take a pound of chicken and a few vegetables and create eighteen different kinds of meals. The only woman he knew that could even hold a candle to her macramé was his mother.

The strange stray thought of marrying her to keep her had crossed his mind several times lately. "I've got two more students who want to sign up for our excursions." He paused to accept a bottle of water. "The thing is that I can't fit everyone and all the equipment in my Corvair." Gina would come up with a solution. The love of his life always did.

The knot in Gina's chest slowly undid itself. "You know, Blair, there is a nursing home that is selling one of its mini buses." The pained look in her green eyes softened.

Blair slowly nodded. They'd have to find money. "Those magazines want more articles on Native American Shaman." He said slowly. Okay they did tend to emphasize some parts of his articles in ways he didn't intend. Still, the money was far better than good. It wasn't as if the magazines were academic magazines. He mentally shrugged. A few articles in some glossy popular magazines didn't mean much. "Maybe I could turn the articles into a book." He ventured.

Gina smiled.

Angie pouted. Mentally she crossed Professor Sandburg off of her score card. She let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe it was time to transfer to the Nevada University campus at Las Vegas. Hanging out in Las Vegas would be more fun than the tiny town of Lin.

#######################

JIM

Murdock eyed the chess game. "You've learned to play well." It wasn't his type of game. He liked to fix planes. He liked to fly. Hannibal and Face liked chess. He'd play sometimes but it was hard to keep his mind focused.

"The new orderly Frank got it approved for me." Jim ginned. "It was from Joel for my birthday. Frank is cool. He was a mercenary before he got the job here. He's shown me some more moves to make when in combat."

Alarms were going off in Murdock's head. He knew that he'd have to share this bit of information with Hannibal. He let out a frustrated controlled sigh. Being sane had its hard moments. "So, when does Frank come on duty?"

"Is everything okay, Murdock?" Jim could hear his friend's heart rate leap up from his normal steady beat.

"I'm uh," he couldn't lie to Jim. "It's Frank. What if he's a spy of some kind?" The worry that his friends could end up back in jail hung heavily in his mind. He knew that they were wanted men.

Frowning Jim considered the idea. Murdock and the rest of the A team were his friends. Frank was an orderly. Orderlies came and went. Murdock and the others had stayed in contact the way they'd promised. It had been a while since his last mission with them but still there was the tantalizing hope that he'd go again on another mission. His eyes brightened. "We should investigate Frank."

A grin flowed over Murdock's lean face. "Yes, Hannibal would say the same thing."

Jim tilted his head as if listening to something that only he could hear. A slight frown appeared on his face. "Joel is trying to see me again. My father doesn't want him to." He let out a soft sigh. "I don't understand why I can't have visitors."

Murdock frowned as well. It hardly seemed fair that Jim couldn't have visitors. "Maybe," he paused as tried to chase the thought that formed in his mind. "Hannibal could look into why your father made that rule."

Nodding Jim sighed. "I miss Joel."

%%%%

It didn't matter that he was always turned away. Joel made his weekly visit. "I brought Jim some more crayons and books."

The short round face Native American nurse gave Joel a soft sad smile. "I know Jim misses your visits," she says gently. "You are good for him." She pushes a closed file towards him. "You might check out these drawings."

Joel left with the drawings that Jim had made for him. When he reached his car he opened the files. A smile played on his face. Jim had drawn him. He looked at the other pages. Wolves were among Jim's favorite subjects. He frowned slightly as he noted that Jim had included drawings of his orderlies and the nurses.

Thoughtfully Joel went back to the police station. He might not be able to visit but he could check to make certain that the people who cared for Jim weren't wanted nor had any problem that would cause Jim any harm.

Simon looked up from pouring himself a cup of coffee. A frown then a delighted smile crossed his ebony face. He poured a second cup. Opening the door to his office he carried out a cup of his private stock. "So, Joel, you taking me up on transferring to Major Crimes," he held out the cup of hot coffee.

Joel accepted the coffee. "Well, if I'm allowed some of your private stock." He smiled. The men were friends off duty as well as on. Simon had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Joel to transfer from the bomb squad to the Major Crimes Unit.

Eyeing the image on the monitor Simon looked thoughtful. "You have a suspect in a bombing?"

The image that stared back at him from the monitor looked like it was one of those FBI updated pictures. The white man seemed mousy and nondescript. He seemed to be the kind of man that people usually didn't notice.

"No," Joel shook his head. "What unfortunately I have is a man who's been hiding for the past thirteen years. Darrell Warren escaped from a chain gang in Georgia thirteen years ago."

"Murdered his entire family and the family on the next farm," Joel pulled out a crayon drawing. "Jim has been drawing orderlies he sees at the institution."

Simon let out a soft sigh. "We'd better pick him up right away." He knew that Joel had parental feelings towards Jim. He thought it a pity that the young man was insane.

Joel nodded. "He's not the only one we're going to have to pickup." He spread several other drawings out. "Jim has also drawn people he's see from his window. You're not going to like this."

Simon let out a whistle as he stared at who was visiting the mental institution. "Dawson Anderson," he mentally and literally straightened. "The Feds are going to want in on this." He knew this was going to be a major headache.

Miles away Hannibal Smith rubbed his chest. He hadn't been feeling good for several days.

"You need to see a doctor," Face said worriedly. The young man had come into the office to check on Hannibal. Fear gripped his heart.

"You'll take care of everyone if anything happens to me won't you, Face," Hannibal closed his eyes against the increasing pain.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, sir." Face raised his voice, "BA!"

BA, Tanya and Amy came running.

Hannibal licked his suddenly dry lips. "I'm not ready," he whispered.

"I've still got the ambulance from the last job," BA shouts. Strangely BA's voice sounds distant.

"Don't leave us," Face begs. BA lifts Hannibal easily as if he were a child.

"Not yet," Hannibal agrees. They're racing towards Cascade in the stolen ambulance. Briefly, he thinks they need to return it. He let out a soft sigh. He thought that he'd seen a lighted door but it's gone now. Someone is holding his hand but he can't see who. There's an oxygen mask on his face.

Murdock is skipping halfway to the parking lot when he gets the call. He sprints the rest of the way to his car. Peeling out he heads for Cascade General.

BLAIR

Six months later-

"You have the touch," Sid is smiling.

Gina strung lights in the courtyard. There are several outdoor ceramic heaters providing heat against the cool night. A few of the music students have formed a string quartet. Mac's provided the food. Most of the faculty and the student body of the small college have gathered for their wedding. She is standing next to Blair dressed in a white Mexican embroidered wedding dress. It barely hides her baby bump. Happiness radiates from her.

"Touch," Blair adjusted his glasses.

"Charisma just jumps off of every page." Sid is smiling. He notices the happy blush on Blair's face. The rest of the sell is so easy. The young professor has a pregnant wife to support after all.

"A book on ESP and the indigenous peoples of the Americas will be well received." Sid knows how to sell books.

Blair hesitates.

"Go ahead," Gina wraps an arm around her husband of three hours. Naomi comes over holding a plate of vegetarian enchiladas. "Honey, Sid is a god among book publishers."

"I've done a lot of research on Sentinels." He isn't aware the light of passion burns in his eyes.

The smile deepens on Sid's face. Where authors and passion is concerned he is indeed a god among men. "Professor Sandburg, the more books you can publish the more the literary world will open up to you."

There is more music, dancing and everyone enjoys the food. Blair finds time to sign some contracts.

"It's a good thing that Blair will be writing," Charlie tells Naomi. He's been head of the ESP lab for the past three years. "The university is closing after this semester."

Frowning Naomi wraps her knitted shawl tighter around her slender shoulders. Temperatures in the desert drop. It is November after all. "I don't understand." She looks up at the multitude of stars overhead; behind them there are happy sounds still coming from Blair and Gina's wedding party.

"Funding," Charlie sighs. "Most of the other professors have found schools or are retiring."

"Blair will find another school," Naomi says brightly.

"No," Charlie shakes his head. "He's gotten a reputation of being involved in junk science. No reputable college will hire him. The kids are going to need our help."

Naomi squares her shoulders. "I have a friend near Cascade who runs a school in a commune."

Charlie frowns. "Hold off on that. I've seen a different path."

8888888

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

(Murdock and Jim are faced with changes in their lives.)

Chapter Seven

Betrayal reflected in Murdock's light eyes. "Why, Colonel," his lower lips trembled. "Jim is one of the team. He's my friend." The last words came out in hoarse whisper. The younger man seemed to shrink in on himself as if he was in physical pain.

"We have our lives back, Murdock," Hannibal said gently. It hurt him to see the pain reflected in the younger man's eyes. His own eyes dropped back to his desk. Six different kinds of mediation were lined up in the open top drawer of his desk. Heart attack-the widow maker the doctors had said. He let out a soft sigh. There was more than Murdock and Jim to consider. "Face and Amy have a shot at life. They are young with an opportunity for a family. BA and Tanya are already planning their wedding."

Murdock slowly nodded. He had eyes. He had ears. He knew the men loved the women that were in their lives. Love, marriage, he squared his slender shoulders. "Jim's father got the file for us." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Hannibal said quietly. "William Ellison has the kind of people working for him that can ferret out things better than the CIA or any of the alphabet government groups." He waited knowing that Murdock of all of them was the most vulnerable. He could bolt and they'd lose him. Hannibal would hate himself if anything happened to the emotionally fragile barely sane man.

"So he knows about us." Murdock looked outside where Face and Amy were busy washing one of the jeeps. Amy squirted Face with a hose. He laughed and chased her with a full bucket of water. "Is he going to send Jim away?" His lower lip trembled. Losing Jim would be a knife twisting in his gut. His sanity teetered on the edge.

"No," Hannibal let out a soft sigh. "There are going to be more restrictions. A full duty nurse will now sit on one side of the room separated by a mesh doorway. Two male orderlies hired by Ellison Corporation will be alternating shifts keeping an eye on Jim."

"Jim will be alone," Murdock whispered. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "He's my best friend. He's even better than BA." There had to be a way to see Jim. His eyes turned hopefully to Hannibal.

"You can still go see him," the silver haired man said softly. It was one of the points he'd hammered out with William Ellison. "I made him understand that you were best friends. You're on the list with Officer Joel Taggart."

"Thank you," Murdock said in a sad soft but relieved voice. Sanity held itself firmly in place.

JIM

He couldn't believe all the construction had been completed so quickly. He let out a strangled sigh. Being in the new wing gave him a large room. Jim's eyes lingered on the mesh that now separated him from a nurse that sat reading reports at her desk.

Privacy was completely gone. How was Murdock going to spring him if the A Team needed him now? Jim knew the answer to that. There was no hope in his muscular chest.

Letting out a soft sigh Jim found his crayons. He'd learned long ago that any sign of aggression would be dealt with. Carefully he spent more than an hour creating a scene of his friend Murdock working on a plane.

The orderly Frank was a special hire. He watched Jim as he worked on his drawing. He frowned slightly noticing the tension in the young man's muscles. William had been very specific when he'd hired him. Mentally squaring his shoulders the English former mercenary thoughtfully eyed his young charge.

He noted the tension in Jim's sculptured muscles. A caged trapped looked crossed Jim's handsome features as he concentrated on his artwork.

"Jim," a workman's British accent colored Frank's voice, "how about a workout?" He kept his voice deliberately gentle.

'If Jim should become a problem,' William Ellison had said. 'I need you to create a fatal accident.'

Normally it wouldn't have been a problem to follow through on such an order. He was a mercenary after all. It was a struggle to keep the sadness out of his light eyes. Jim had somehow become like a surrogate little brother to him. It would hurt him to end the young man's life. If only he could prove that Jim was innocent of murdering his mother all those years ago. He quickly pushed the thought away. Hope in his line of work wasn't a good thing.

Slowly raising his head Jim's inquisitive light eyes focused on the orderly. Involuntarily he smiled. The physical workouts always helped burn off his excess energy. Murdock had approved. 'Frank will train you like a soldier,' was what he'd said.

"'Kay," Jim responded. He needed to burn off the unhappiness of being so totally imprisoned again. Besides he trusted Frank. Frank would never hurt him.

A WEEK LATER

One visit a week. Murdock hummed happily to himself. He leaned over to inspect the engine in the biplane. Wiping his greasy hands on a rag he went about searching his new toolbox for just the right tool. His reputation at being able to fix just about any aircraft had brought in work that helped pay his share of keeping the airfield.

Whistling while he worked Murdock only paused to rub the odd feeling he got in his chest. He'd been tortured when he'd been a military prisoner. Doctors had told him that the residual aches and pains had come from old injuries. Then of course there was all the activity they'd had as the A Team. He grinned. Murdock pushed aside all thoughts of pain.

Today was a good day. It was surprisingly warm. The sun shone brightly. The air smelled so good. Today he'd get to see his best friend in the whole world. He whistled a happy tune.

For a moment Murdock thought he spotted a light at the edge of the forest. It disappeared as he heard BA arguing again with Face. Murdock frowned slightly. Something about the light tipped toed at the back of his mind.

"Murdock," Hannibal appeared at the doorway of the building where Cascade Investigations had their office. "How about some fresh coffee, Captain," the older man seemed relaxed yet alert.

A grin split Murdock's face. "We have a job, sir?" He put away his tools. Automatically he closed up the big red roll away metal tool box. Hannibal had insisted that Murdock only have the very best. He patted the toolbox with affection. Warmth spread through him as he walked towards the office.

"And peach cobbler," Amy carries the warm dish from their living quarters. She and Face had made watching over Hannibal part of their family life. It made sense for them all to live in the same building. Besides the office the building housed their apartment, the Colonel's, and Murdock's bachelor apartments. BA and Tanya had a house in Cascade. It amused Amy to know that BA had consented to a house with a wooden porch and a white picket fence.

BLAIR

"It's not junk science," Blair ran his hands through his hair. Irritated and frustrated he stared unseeing out the renovated school bus windshield.

Gina carefully set two cups of coffee on their kitchen table. The renovated school bus had been designed to look like something out of a Jules Verne novel updated with a heavy emphasis to towards Steampunk. She would have preferred to live in an old Victorian house that she could restore.

Lovely she sat down. Their baby would be here soon. "I've been doing some research on individuals with heightened senses."

Blair blinked. He adjusted his glasses. "Gina, everyone in academia is spreading stories that I'm a-," he struggled to find the right word. It was a first but he'd felt so betrayed.

"It happens in science," Gina adjusted a pillow behind her back. Her baby bump seemed more of a blimp lately. "You are on the cusp of proving something that no one has thought possible. There's also professional jealousy at stake."

Nodding slowly Blair agreed. Gina was the best of all the women he'd ever known in his life.

"There is however one subject that is different from all the others I've researched for you." Gina let out a soft sigh. "He seems to have been documented to have heightened senses of hearing, sight and taste."

Blair sucked in a breath. Excitement filled his brilliant sapphire eyes.

"He's also been remanded to a mental hospital for the murder of his mother."

Hope was dashed. A sigh escaped Blair. "I was hoping for someone who was normal." A red flush heated his face. "Sorry, Gina, I know that you are just trying to help me."

"What if your sentinel was innocent," Gina asked. "I mean according to the testimony given at the trial the then thirteen year old boy was in a black out."

"A zone out," Blair barely whispered. "He couldn't murder anyone if he was in a zone out."

"We have to go to Cascade." Gina said simply. "You'll have to prove Jim Ellison is innocent. He's going to need your help."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

Beggars would ride,

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#####

Sorry for the delay. From Black Friday to Christmas it's very stressful in retail. Then of course there is the other stuff which I won't go into. This story should have a couple more chapters before it finishes. This is just a short chapter while I get back into the story.

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Chapter Eight

The newspaper achieves were far more revealing than Blair had expected them to be. He sucked in a long breath. "Oh, my god," it was his repeated litany as reread the articles spread out on the table. The warm homey aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls filled the remodeled school bus.

Gina had known when to take away the coffee and bring him a mug of hot tea. She smiled as she saw the look in his bright blue eyes. It had been the look of passion that had drawn her to him. Passion for his quest had been her undoing. She felt their baby move in side of her. Yes they'd always be second to Blair's search for a Sentinel but somehow she felt it was worth it.

"They didn't know that he was a Sentinel." There was reverence in his voice. Blair had to remove his suddenly foggy glasses to clean them. Every newspaper article on the trial of wealthy socialite Grace Ellison had spread out on the table. Blair drew in a shaky breath. "Jim couldn't have murdered his mother. He was in a zone out."

"You have to prove him innocent." Gina set a warm roll on a plate in front of her husband. In her eyes matters were simple. Blair would prove that Jim Ellison didn't murder his mother. The Sentinel would be free. Her husband would at long last have the Sentinel he'd searched his entire life for. She smiled warmly as Blair found the roll. He needed her to keep him feed and an even keel. She expected that she'd probably have to do the same for his Sentinel. Her smile deepened. Wasn't that what love was all about?

#####

TROUBLE

William Ellison wasn't happy. "Are you certain?" Sally had brought them coffee before she'd quietly closed the door to his office. Now he wished that there was something stronger in his cup. He thought of the brandy or better yet the bottle of fine whiskey in the liquor cabinet.

"Yes, sir," Donavon was good at what he did. He was literally a genius with computers. Most of the time he dressed in faded jeans and raggedy looking tee shirts with strange logos and references to obscure science fiction movies. Few saw beyond his manner of dress or the gold earrings that decorated his ears above the ear plugs that gave his ears a strange look. "I had all the articles tag so that if anyone tried to tap into the newspaper archives it would set off an alert."

Calm and quiet his assurance spoke volumes about his work.

Donavon McCoy had been headed towards an unhappy fate. All his hacking ventures could have landed him in a Federal prison. Then again, death had been standing patiently waiting for him because Donavon liked to drink, use drugs and drive wildly suicidal through the dark and winding roads that snaked through the forest outside of Cascade. Or maybe it would have been the drug cartel who final figured out who had hacked their bank accounts.

Only it had been William Ellison who had found him first. William Ellison who had a genius' touch at finding the right people for the job had brought Donavon to his office in the Ellison Corporation Building.

Rehab and the right bodyguard guaranteed Donavon's safety. It had been easy enough to replace the mercenary Frank at the mental hospital.

"I've traced who downloaded the articles." There was contentment about Donavon's youthful face. His hands curled around the cup that held his hot coffee. "Professor Blair Sandburg is known for his off the wall beliefs." A wiry grin touched Donavon's face. He recognized a kindred spirit in one Professor Blair Sandburg.

"He believes in space aliens, ghosts and sentinels." Donavon chuckled.

"No matter what I must protect my family." William's voice had a hard edge to it. If Jimmy was a danger then he'd have to be taken care of. William had long ago buried any love he'd felt for his oldest son.

Donavon's smile faded a bit. He already liked Professor Sandburg. He didn't want to think that his employer would 'make something happen', to the professor.

Murdock had noticed the change in Jim's attendants. There was something he didn't trust about the new attendant. He'd increased his visits to twice a week. "We have to prove you innocent," he said softly. They sat side by side each working on drawings of biplanes.

Jim let out a sigh. He'd always believed that he'd killed his mother. "What if I'm not innocent?"

"She Who Walks with Wolves said that you were innocent." Murdock pointed out. He let out an irritated breath. "We'll just have to get the rest of the team on it. Frank could also help us."

He didn't mention that he knew where Frank had gone. Finding Frank had been easy enough. Murdock was after all a member of the A Team. He carefully chose his next crayon.

"Kevin said that Frank had a new job." Jim didn't mention that the smirk on Kevin's face had worried him. His new attendant wasn't the kind of friend that Frank had been.

"He'll still help us," Murdock said quietly. Frank had spotted him of course when he'd found him but a slight smile and a nod had been enough to tell him that the man was a friendly.

They spent the rest of Murdock's visit quietly coloring.

On his way out Murdock spotted Joel. He smiled. Yes, Joel would help.

###########

As Murdock approached Joel the Kara Wheel finally turned for one Blair Sandburg and his lovely pregnant wife Gina.

A brightly painted green and gold bus with artful lettering caught one Robert Lang's eye. He turned to his butler/bodyguard. "I must know more about who designed that bus."

So it was half an hour later Blair and Gina were seated in an upstairs private room of the Silver Dolphin. The exclusive restaurant catered to the likes of super rich. William Ellison and his son Stephen could be counted upon to frequent the quiet elegant restaurant.

"I must admit that I'm a fan of your work." The short middle aged billionaire smiled at Blair. "To have actually lived up in the trees with the Kombai," he stirred cream into his coffee. He looked up. "I was inspired to visit the area. I've funded a project to protect them."

Some of the tension in Blair's chest eased. "It was an incredible experience." His eyes brightened. "I didn't know you were the one who had taken up championing the protection of the Kombai."

Robert chuckled. "If I could only help prove the existence of Sentinels I'd be a happy man." He gestured to a portrait on the wall that Blair had noticed when they'd first arrived. "My great grandfather Ezekiel Lang ran across Sir Richard Burton the explorer in South America on one of his 'adventures.'" He smiled fondly. "I actually have a signed copy of the book that Sir Burton wrote."

Resting a hand over her baby bump Gina smiled. "Blair thinks that he may have found a Sentinel."

"It's a possibility." Blair said cautiously. He'd been burnt several times before in trusting people.

As if Robert knew he smiled. "Well, I may have also found one." He gestured for his butler. "Bring the files I have on James Ellison."

"You know about Jim?" Blair stammered.

Nodding Robert spread the file out on table linen. "Actually it was antidotal stories about James' grandfather that got my interest. When I found out about the murder and the trial," he paused. "I suspect that James Ellison is a full Sentinel. He's going to need our help."

An hour later with dinner and dessert consumed, the three lingered over coffee discussing strategies on how to prove Jim Ellison innocent.

#########

Timing was everything in the universe. At the moment it was the wrong moment for socialite Elaine Waters.

Joel Taggart gazed sorrowfully at the slender woman that lay sprawled on the damp ground next to her mail box. A bloody baseball bat lay several feet away from the young blond woman's body.

Déjà had him walking towards Captain Simon Banks. "I hate to say this, Simon, but I think we need to open a very old closed file."

###

TBC


End file.
